


Burn

by ObsidianJade



Series: Burn 'verse [1]
Category: Bon Jovi
Genre: M/M, Morally Ambiguous Character, dub-con, pseudo-vampirism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-24
Updated: 2012-02-24
Packaged: 2017-10-31 16:35:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,107
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/346204
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ObsidianJade/pseuds/ObsidianJade
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If he stayed here, his only two choices were to drown or burn.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Burn

**Author's Note:**

> Twitter conversations are forever inspiring. This is something that had been hovering at the back of my mind for a while that Bella (accidentally or otherwise) managed to pull to the front. I have to thank her for that, because I had a lot of fun writing this. Morally ambiguous characters are an author's best friend?
> 
> DISCLAIMER: Jon Bon Jovi, et. al., are real people and property of themselves. No harm is intended or implied and no profit is made.

He’d felt it, just the same as everyone else, the same as those mindless groupies that surrounded the band. The first time he sat at that dingy bar in a California club and watched that skinny blond prancing his way across the stage, he’d felt the irresistible urge to walk up to him and bare his throat, offer his life and soul into those guitar-callused hands.

At the time, he’d attributed it to the singer’s untamed charisma and wild sex appeal. 

He’d never been so wrong.

Unable to resist, he’d charmed his way backstage, found the band and their singer and offered himself up, a sacrifice walking with blissful ignorance to his own doom. _‘I’m gonna be your new guitarist,’_ he’d said, and tried not to feel like that ice-blue gaze was devouring him alive. 

The years that followed blurred together, an unstoppable avalanche of write-record-perform-travel-perform, and lost somewhere in those years was the memory of his discovering the truth. 

It wasn’t hard to believe that Jon drew energy from the crowds he sang to, their exuberance rocketing him into a stratospheric high that no drug could ever match, pushing him higher as he returned the favor, whipping the crowd into a frenzy of sex-driven madness.

It was harder to believe that Jon - and David - actually _fed_ on the energy, but the truth was hard to believe sometimes.

He couldn’t remember how or when he’d found out, didn’t know whether the recollection had slipped from his mind or been pulled from it, but before long every show ended the same way - Jon bearing him down on a sofa or a bed, burning lips against his own as the energy he’d stolen from the crowd poured between them. Jon had his morals, at least; his insistence on playing huge stadiums meant that there was more energy than two, or four, or four hundred men could ever need - _'All without hurting anybody,' Jon said, his smile predatory, and he found himself wishing that Jon had fangs, so that famously perfect smile would give people something to fear_ \- and Jon and David glutted themselves every night they played. 

And after they’d eaten, they shared.

It was the most blissful sort of agony, feeling his body buck and writhe under Jon’s hard form, fighting the scorching-hot energy that spilled into it, rejuvenating him even as it threatened to tear him apart. It never seemed to cool, that energy, until he took to drowning it with any alcohol he could find, but even that only worked for a few hours at a time.

“Drinking’s not good for it,” Dave told him once, expression uncharacteristically serious, and he only pulled a face in response and tipped the bottle back again. 

It was why Tico had stopped drinking, he knew. Tico, the oldest of them now, the one with the most to fight away ever since Alec had left them.

It hadn’t been voluntary, Alec’s leaving. Alec had threatened them, fear and anger and alcohol backing up his bravery, threatening to expose what they were, and Jon had smiled sadly and shaken his head, very quietly said he would be calling Hugh in the morning. And then he’d moved.

It had been the first time he’d seen the full extent of Jon’s powers - Jon, pressing the bassist backwards with nothing more than a gentle hand on his chest, staring deep into Alec’s terrified eyes, and tearing his mind out with only a thought. Tearing the thoughts, the memories, the knowledge that he’d lost the right to, right out of Alec’s soul. 

When Alec awoke an hour later, he remembered nothing but anger and pain, and he stormed out of the hotel room in the midst of a storm of accusations, all of which suggested drugs and none of which ever mentioned the truth.

_______________________________________________

“It’s a survival mechanism,” David said a few hours later, when he found him trying to climb into the deepest bottle he could find. “We’re supposed to be a secret, remember.”

“Can you do it?”

“Nope.” Plucking the bottle out of his hand, David tipped it into his own mouth, draining enough to stagger a human in a few swallows. “Jon’s the strongest of us. It’s his job to protect us. He has to be the one who fights our battles.”

_________________________________________________

Maybe that strength was why it was so hard for him to be gentle, why the energy that moved between them burned like hellfire while at the other end of the room David straddled Tico, their mouths melting together as that stolen strength moved between them, Tico’s body relaxed and calm under David’s until the last wisp of energy passed between them and Tico reached his peak, arching upwards with a brief gasp before falling back to the cushions, limp and sated.

“The Fountain of Youth always has a price,” Jon smiled, his eyes frozen steel, and bent his head to pour more fire between their mouths, sitting down hard across his hips so that the spasms didn’t force him off.

When the last burning drop of energy passed between them, his clothes clinging to him with sweat and more private fluids, he lay silent on the sofa for a few minutes, trying to breathe slowly enough to quell the shaking in his limbs. 

__________________________________________________________

When the burning of the stolen energy got to be too much, he drowned the feeling of it under more alcohol than his body could handle, making Jon and all the energy he stole fight to keep him well, keep him healthy. When it got to be too much, he had no choice to walk away.

The first time was agonizing; his body fought to return to that burn, the agony of stolen moments coursing into him had become a drug, one not so easily shaken as the ones he masked it with. 

The second time, he returned with his mind clearer than it had been since he’d first seen that tight-bodied blond dancing across the stage, stealing moments and twisting minds. Those eyes, blade-sharp and just as cool, flickered over him.

If he stayed here, his only choices were to drown or burn. 

“You’re gonna have to make a choice, Rich,” Jon said to him, icy eyes wide and guileless, a mocking attempt at innocence that he’d never known.

He remembered how those eyes had looked into Alec, torn something out of the core of him and put something else back. Remembered, and silently met Jon’s cold gaze.

After a heartbeat or two, his face softened into a smile, arms spreading towards the singer. “C’mere and kiss me, Jonny.”

Baby-blue eyes smiled.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Moonlight](https://archiveofourown.org/works/509407) by [J_L_Nevole (Brambleshadow_of_WindClan)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Brambleshadow_of_WindClan/pseuds/J_L_Nevole)
  * [In the Still of the Night](https://archiveofourown.org/works/582348) by [J_L_Nevole (Brambleshadow_of_WindClan)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Brambleshadow_of_WindClan/pseuds/J_L_Nevole)




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